


Dreams of Neo-Tokyo

by SignedSealedAndDigitized



Category: Akira (Anime & Manga)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-11
Updated: 2019-03-11
Packaged: 2019-11-15 11:45:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18072821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SignedSealedAndDigitized/pseuds/SignedSealedAndDigitized
Summary: A one-shot for now, but maybe more eventually. Your life as a recent initiate to the city punk lifestyle. Various quiet(er) moments in Neo-Tokyo with Kaneda and the gang.





	Dreams of Neo-Tokyo

"So I guess you want to ask me why I did it, huh?"

The headmaster of the eighth district vocational technical school glanced up from a handful of forms. "That _is_ the natural question to ask, yes."

You threaded your fingers together and pressed them against the back of your head, then leaned back in the stiff chair across from his desk. It squeaked against the scuffed linoleum tile and you turned toward the window. A few students were cutting class to smoke; no surprise there. "Uhhh...to tell you the truth, I haven't really thought up a good reason." You chuckled and grasped at the back of your neck as you turned back to face him. "Yeah, I was trying to work on an excuse for a while during your little discipline monologue back there, but I couldn't come up with anything interesting. Whoops."

He tapped the stack of papers against the desktop to straighten them out and glared at you. "You're lucky you aren't a boy Ms. (Y/N), or I'd have called in our gym instructor. He's an excellent disciplinarian. Be aware that I may not be so patient next time. Now get out and go to the lecture hall. You'll know the one; you'll be able to make it out from the shouting."

With that, you leaned forward in your seat, letting the front legs of the chair clatter against the floor as you quickly rose to your feet and left. 

You made sure to take your time getting to the lecture hall to collect your thoughts; it wasn't like you'd be skipping anything of value. The hallway was nearly empty, grimy grey-green and coated with graffiti. Two weeks ago, hell, even one, you wouldn't have believed that you'd end up in a place like this. But you'd committed a little petty theft because what was the point of living by the book all the time anyway and then this had turned into that and long story short you slid down the social ladder from honors student to honors student-slash-delinquent over the course of a couple of days. Still, getting relegated to vo-tech school seemed a little extreme. You figured you'd get out of it eventually, but at this point your fall from social grace was too recent for you to care. So you cracked your knuckles and whistled and looked out the rows of dusty windows as you took the scenic route to the lecture hall that, sure enough, issued echoes of obnoxious outbursts.

A few doorways before the classroom you thought about your appearance a little. For as little as you wanted to care, any amount of time at any school--highbrow or not--taught you that first impressions matter in any and every setting. Your standard get-up was definitely a little preppy for this scene, and that could cost you quite a few popularity points among the JD populace. You unzipped your bomber jacket a few inches and let the tank top beneath show, tucked your sunglasses into the collar instead of keeping them propped up on your forehead (which pulled the top's collar down a little more, but what the hell), and rolled your jeans up past your ankles. Good enough. Your hair was- well, whatever, that could stick around for the day and a haircut was in order anyway. You messed with the collar of the jacket a little bit and stepped up to the lecture hall door, thought about knocking, then swung it open and ambled in.

The teacher, used to students walking out of the room but never willingly into it, turned to face you, letting the hand holding a stubby piece of chalk fall to his side. You glanced at the board. 'Basics of Algebra.' You couldn't help but roll your eyes.

"And you are?" the teacher asked. He pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose and left a dusty white fingerprint. By that point, you'd already started walking up the steps, to the seats near the back of the room.

"New student," you replied without turning back. When you reached an empty seat, you collapsed into the chair with an extra dollop of apathy. Might as well play up the delinquent role a little. You heard a few of the guys a couple of rows down make kiss noises and various lame remarks at you and shot them a look. The teacher cleared his throat and your glance quickly shot back to him. You couldn't help it; old teacher's pet reflex.

"Do you care, Ms. New Student, to introduce yourself?"

"Uhhh...not particularly." A few of the kids laughed; you mostly ignored them (though their raucous response was enough of a break from the norm that it held some amusement).

"Very well. Do you care, then, to attempt to solve this equation that I've written here, or should I just have you sent back to the headmaster's office?"

You leaned back in your seat- well, tried to; it was rusted as all hell, and squeaked in protest. "Alright, uhh...x equals twelve. You want me to recite the quadratic formula while I'm at it? Or are you not there yet? Genuine question; not trying to be fresh."

He pursed his lips and glowered at you anyway. "That won't be necessary."

You shrugged and nodded, then turned your attention to the utterly destroyed desk to read the scratched-in insults, confessions of love, and so on. If classes were going to be this easy, you thought to yourself, there was hardly any point to bring a pencil and paper along for notes. As the teacher continued to talk at the rest of the people in the class, you let your eyes wander across the rest of the students.

Most of them looked like they'd rather be dead than in the classroom. You found it hard to believe that none of them were smart, however, just bathed in a sea of apathy; that had always seemed like kind of a ridiculous assumption to you, but one that the administration swore by. A few groups seemed to cluster together; seemed like four or five different cliques to you. You stayed on the group from which most of the remarks directed at you had come. They looked like a bunch of punks. Surprise. One of them, with close-cropped black hair and dark eyes to match shot you a look. Moments later, after noticing his friend(?) turned around, another guy, with somewhat longer hair, shot you a far more try-hard flirtatious look. You rolled your eyes and turned back to the far more interesting honey-colored desk's scratchings. 'Ren loves Miki.' 'Fuck school.' 'Call 333-444 for a good time.' 

When the bell rang you were out of there as fast as your legs could carry you. You stomped down two flights of stairs, then out to the litter-strewn courtyard where students gathered in groups to make evening plans. You caught a few familiar faces in your periphery, the guys from class. They were hanging around few girls and a few bikes. Didn't take too long to figure out whey _they_ were stuck at this school; typical run-of-the-mill biker gang. Your old school had given out informational pamphlets on them on the first or second day of secondary school. You heard a shout from their direction, but not directed at you.

"Hey, Kaneda! Where are you going?"

"Hang on, will ya'? This'll only take a minute." He picked up a lazy jog to match the new girl's stride.

You heard footsteps of who you assumed to be 'Kaneda' coming up behind you, then: "You're pretty tall, huh?"

You turned to him, noticing that your sightline met his pretty much exactly. "Yeah, guess so."

"What's your name?"

"(Y/N)." After a pause, you added "Why do you ask, _Kaneda_?"

He recoiled a little, almost imperceptibly, clearly unaware how you could possibly know his name for a second or two before it clicked and he looked back at his crew. "Hmm...you're pretty cute. You should come to Harukiya tonight. I'll let you ride on my bike-"

"Thanks, not interested." You unzipped your jacket the rest of the way (it was unseasonably hot out this afternoon), and noticed that he watched the gesture closely. "You know, you're real subtle with that."

He smirked. "You're gonna have to make friends eventually you know. It's a pretty tough crowd over here." He smiled what you imagined he thought was a smooth smile. "Not everyone'll be so nice."

You nodded and turned to face front again. "Uh-huh. I'll keep that in mind."

He was clearly not getting through to her. He huffed in frustration and stopped keeping pace. "Yeah, well, whatever."

"Uh-huh, sure thing, skirt chaser."

"What was that?!"

You smirked. "You heard me~." You put on your sunglasses and waved behind you walked out the front entrance. "See ya' tomorrow, I guess."

As you turned the corner you heard a girl's voice, a shrill voice at that, calling Kaneda out for flirting with quote 'that new bitch' end quote when she was right there. He had a girlfriend too? Damn, these people really were just outwardly seedy, huh?

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this to distract myself from stressing out about a very important interview I have in a few hours...hah.
> 
> Lemme know if you want more stuff like this, though; this was fun to write and I might entertain requests once in a while too.


End file.
